perception and reality
by flyingcrane
Summary: Everyone says they're perfect for each other, so it must be true.
1. perception and reality

Warnings: implied/referenced domestic violence, emotional/psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, misunderstandings

* * *

When Yurio catches sight of the bruise peeking just above the edge of Yuuri's low-slung sweatpants, only visible because Yuuri's stretching his arms so far above his head, he scoffs.

Yuuri, the dumb pig, only looks at him questioningly.

"If you and Victor are going to be so disgusting together, try to keep it private why don't you?" The words are harsh and have an edge of cruelness to them he doesn't really mean, but he's frustrated and annoyed and the pig doesn't deserve his sympathy. The small flinch he gets in response doesn't make him feel any better or worse. "Cover up your love bites if you don't want to give your mother a heart attack."

Yuuri blinks at him in surprise, looks down, and pales when he sees the bruise too. As if he didn't already know it was there. He's quick to pull his shirt down and his pants up, and he looks ridiculous trying to do both at the same time. "Oh! Uh, this- I didn't-"

"Save it, piggy," Yurio snaps, rolling his eyes. "As if I care what you two do in the dark."

He gets up to leave because he can't stand the faux-innocent look on his face, so he misses the way Yuuri's gaze shutters and closes behind him.

* * *

The third time she catches Victor absentmindedly touching Yuuri's hand or arm or knee, she can't help but smile at the beautiful picture they make. "Oh, you two are so wonderful together."

She says it quietly enough that the rest of the table doesn't hear, because she wants this to be a semi-private moment between her son...and her future son-in-law.

It's probably far too soon for that kind of talk, she admits to herself sheepishly. Victor's only been with them for a few months as he trains her son, and they probably don't realize depth of her words since there hasn't been an official announcement of their relationship status. They probably haven't _reached_ that stage yet, in all honesty, but that's alright though, she knows they'll catch on soon enough.

She's never seen Yuuri act the way he does when Victor is by his side, _perform_ the way he does when he knows Victor is in the crowd watching. The transformation is incredible and she attributes Yuuri's quieter, thoughtful moments to his newfound maturity now that he's in a serious, committed relationship, especially to an older man who is so cultured and world-wise.

It makes her heart ache a little to see her sweet little boy grow up, but she's proud of the man he's becoming.

Victor looks at her in surprise before his handsome face softens and he places his hand on top of Yuuri's deliberately. "Thank you, Hiroko-san. That means a lot to us, doesn't it Yuuri?"

Her son is sitting stock-still beside him, eyes on their hands laced together on the table, and she can tell Yuuri's holding his breath. Then he smiles, looks at her with tired eyes. Oh, poor dear must be exhausted from all the training and excitement. "It does, Mom. It means a lot."

"You know, Yuuri, your father and I were just like you and Victor in the beginning of our relationship…it was so romantic and perfect, and we just knew we were perfect for each other…" Hiroko gets lost in her memories as she tells the two stories of her and Toshiya's first date, which had been a complete disaster, and anniversaries that followed, leading up to a long and happy marriage.

Victor smiles and laughs and never takes his hand off Yuuri's, and Hiroko doesn't see Yuuri's other hand, balled into a white-knuckled fist on his lap.

* * *

"Oi, Yuuri! Why are you wearing long-sleeves? Can't you feel how hot it is in the studio?" Minako shakes her head. "I warned you the air conditioning is out and to wear short sleeves."

Yuuri smiles nervously like he always does when he knows he didn't do what he was supposed to. "Sorry, Minako-sensei. I guess I forgot."

He tugs self consciously on the edge of one sleeve and Minako can't really tell why until she sees a glimpse of discoloration hidden beneath. She's quick to grab his arm, ignoring his shout of surprise, and pulls up the sleeve to see a ring of purple-green around Yuuri's wrist. They look like fingerprints. "Yuuri, what happened? What did you do?"

Yuuri bites his lip, looks down and tugs on his arm. She doesn't give it back. "It's nothing, Sensei, I just slipped on the ice and Victor tried to catch me."

Minako frowns but she supposes it's happened before. He's never been the most graceful person unless he was in the middle of a performance, and with the way Victor trains him to near exhaustion, he's probably even less coordinated than usual at the end of their sessions. She shakes her head and sighs, patting him on the head, "You never learn, do you Yuuri? It's a good thing Victor's here to keep an eye on you. Who knows what kind of trouble you'd get into?"

Yuuri laughs, high and reedy. "Right. Lucky. That's true." He clears his throat. "Uh, can we get back to the lesson?"

Minako agrees because his next competition is coming up and he needs to be in perfect form to continue onto the Grand Prix, and she doesn't comment when he pulls his sleeves down again despite the sweat beading on his brow. He's probably just nervous about the competition, that's all.

* * *

"Yuuri~! You were great out there! All your jumps were perfect and your step sequence was so smooth!" Phichit sings cheerily, slapping a hand to Yuuri's back while the other skater is changing out of his skates.

He doesn't expect his friend to yelp and jump up, face crumpled in pain.

He snatches his hand back in horror. "Yuuri! I'm so sorry! What's wrong?" He doesn't let Yuuri try to wave him away with a pained smile and instead his gaze locks onto the patch of red growing on Yuuri's white t-shirt. He panics a little then because there's no one in the rink with them so late at night and they're both probably going to get yelled at for practicing without supervision in a different country, especially now that Yuuri's apparently _hurt_. "Yuuri, what-"

"It's fine Phichit, I swear," Yuuri reassures, smile looking less like a grimace now, but he's sweating and his skin is clammy to the touch.

Phichit puffs his cheeks out stubbornly and pushes on Yuuri's shoulders until the other skater is reluctantly sitting on the bench again. He ignores the dismay on Yuuri's face and tugs aside the loose collar of his friends shirt to see where the red is coming from, and his world tilts sideways at the sight of a bled-through bandage covering part of Yuuri's shoulder blade. It's bigger than he expected, about the size of the palm of his hand, with a bright red spot right in the middle.

 _How was he able to skate like this?_ Phichit quietly marvels, horrified.

"Yuuri!" he gasps. He doesn't touch it but the bleeding seems to have stopped, and for that he's grateful. He's never done well with blood. "Seriously, Yuuri, what happened? Did you fall or something? Are those _cuts?_ " He can see the edges of four lines starting before it disappears beneath the gauze, but he can't see where they end when Yuuri shifts and pulls his collar back.

"It's nothing," Yuuri insists, a little more forcefully this time. "Makkachin just got a little excited while Victor and I were at the hot springs and jumped on my back. His nails haven't been clipped in a while so…"

Phichit winces sympathetically and can only imagine how much it must hurt if the wounds are still deep enough to bleed. "Well, at least you have Victor to patch you up, eh?"

Yuuri starts in surprise and Phichit's grin widens.

He wriggles his eyebrows suggestively, trying to lighten the mood. "Playing doctor, are you?"

Yuuri's reaction is delayed, staring at him with a blank expression. A few seconds pass in startling silence before Yuuri's face fills with the bright flush Phichit had been waiting for. "Look at the time! So late! It's probably dark out we- we should- uh, get back to the hotel now! Right now! Let's go!" Phichit laughs as they pack up and head out of the rink.

As an afterthought, he tosses a jacket to Yuuri and doesn't miss the confusion the action elicits. He smiles and nods to Yuuri's shoulder. "I know it's super hot right now, but you should probably cover up in case someone sees it, especially if your mom calls. Don't wanna worry anyone, right?"

Yuuri's smile fits strangely on his face and doesn't look at him when he agrees quietly, "No. We wouldn't want that."

* * *

He's not exactly surprised when Yuuri jumps at his approach. He hasn't been the most welcoming or supportive of Yuuri and Vitya's relationship - only because said relationship had been the cause and result of Vitya's irresponsibility and capriciousness - but he's not exactly a warm and fuzzy person either.

Still, Yuuri is like a jumpy rabbit at the best of times so Yakov attempts to make his presence less menacing than usual, especially since he has to be a substitute coach while Vitya is off doing whatever he feels like again. "Yuuri, are you ready?"

Yuuri blinks at him like he's not sure how to respond. Why wouldn't he be, though, when Yakov's own student is his opponent?

"Yakov-san, you've been married before, correct?"

This time, it's Yakov who's thrown off guard. Not even the snottiest and fearless of his students - Yurio and Vitya come to mind - would dare ask about his relationship to Lilia so candidly. His brows come together and he knows he doesn't look happy, but he never really looks happy. "That's correct."

Yuuri meets his gaze evenly, probably a first if Yakov thinks about it, and asks, "Is love supposed to hurt?"

What a strange question, but maybe it's in relation to his skating season theme. And Vitya.

Yakov snorts. "Of course it's supposed to hurt."

Loud arguments, differing opinions, imperfect humans - none of it is pretty when it clashes, and those feelings are only intensified in romantic relationships. But love, true love, gives as much as it gets, is as blissful as it is painful. Yakov doesn't say any of this though. He has to let the young ones figure it out on their own, no matter how lost they look now, and as much as he actually likes Yuuri, he's not really his student. Life must be Yuuri's teacher in this case.

Yuuri curls a hand around his throat in a loose hold, as if coming to grips with something, and Yakov is probably just imagining the faint lines he sees mirroring Yuuri's fingers.

Yuuri attempts a smile. "I see."

* * *

Barcelona is a beautiful city, but even the twinkling lights and ancient architecture pale in comparison to a happy couple, Chris muses.

Those two can't honestly expect the rest of them to believe those matching gold rings were just lucky charms. Chris is many things, but a fool is not one of them, and with such a momentous occasion comes great responsibility as Victor's self-proclaimed closest friend.

They're all walking back to the hotel, talking amiably amongst themselves even after Victor's indirect challenge, and Chris manages to get Yuuri to walk beside him in the back of the group as Victor is bombarded with questions from Phichit and Minako and at the same time harassed by Yurio. Now is as good a time is any, especially if Yuuri somehow comes through and manages to win a gold at the Grand Prix.

"Congratulations, Yuuri," he says, hands in his pockets, "I'm certain you and Victor will be very happy together."

Yuuri doesn't blush and stutter as he expects, only keeps his contemplative gaze forward. "You're certain, are you?" he returns evenly, not a single inflection in his tone.

Chris' brows draw together but he dismisses Yuuri's reticence as delayed shock from the sudden engagement and announcement. Even though it had been a long time coming, Yuuri probably hadn't intended for the rest of them to catch on so quickly, and Victor's openness about their relationship certainly hadn't helped.

"Yuuri, as Victor's good friend, I must ask you something."

Yuuri blinks out of his quiet mood and looks up at him curiously. "Oh?"

Chris nods and allows his expression to become serious because this is an important conversation he's been meaning to have with the younger man for a while. "Victor's worked hard for what he has and he's given up much to achieve his dreams. He's flirtatious, yes, and incredibly charismatic, but the people he drew never truly made him happy...until you."

He looks up ahead at his friend who's now smiling and laughing in a way that had started becoming brittle and fake in the last few years, and it's so good to see genuine delight in those ice-blue eyes again, to see life color Victor's cheeks once more. And maybe some of it is because he's a coach now and able to challenge himself again, but Chris knows without a shadow of a doubt that Yuuri is the catalyst, the _cause_ of this wonderful change.

"Promise me you'll care of him and won't break his heart."

Yuuri is quiet at his side for a long moment, and that's fine. Chris wants his companion to think truly and deeply on his words, wants to hear a heartfelt answer because Victor doesn't deserve any less.

"You really care about Victor, don't you?" Yuuri asks instead, and Chris nearly misses a step in surprise.

There's no suspicion or caution or malice in the question, so Chris smiles to himself, looking up into the dark, open sky above. "I do. I looked up to him too, when I was younger, and he encouraged me to get better and skate on the same ice as him. We've been competing together for years." He shakes his head. "He really is something."

Another moment of silence, only broken by the laughter of their friends around them, before Yuuri promises, "I'll never break Victor's heart. How can I when he already has mine?"

Chris is only two years older than Yuuri but he can't help but sling an arm around his fellow skaters shoulders comfortingly, pretends he can't see the tears that cling to Yuuri's lashes, and knows deep down that Victor is in good hands.

* * *

Yuuri looks down at the ring on his finger, glinting beautifully in the street light, and he thinks he finally understands.

So this is love.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Thanks for reading! Leave a review and let me know what you thought!


	2. clarity

**Summary:** Sometimes it takes someone on the outside looking in.

* * *

The energy in the stadium is uproarious.

It's the long awaited Grand Prix, so it's no wonder the entire crowd is on their feet, screaming and cheering in a amix of languages. It's a beautiful sight to see so many countries competing but still united, more incredible still to witness the bonds between skaters of different nations showcase their home and identity in their breathtaking performances, encouraging and challenging each other in the same breath.

The results are hilariously unexpected with many thinking Jean-Jacques Leroy, Otabek, and Chris will take the top slots. Instead, Lilia's own student manages to break a world record set by the man he'd wanted to be trained by, and Lilia can't quite explain the elation and joy and absolute _pride_ that fills her because she's watched Yurio grow into the young man he is now, who still has so much time and room to grow stronger and better and even more brilliant.

Thinking about Yurio's preferred coach brings her mind to the mans other student and almost unwillingly, her eyes find Katsuki Yuuri in the stands.

Victor is by his side and they look like they're discussing something important, but all Lilia can see is the hand that cups Yuri's cheek so tenderly and the glint of two gold, matching bands.

Her stomach sinks.

It's both a blessing and a curse when Victor and Yuuri decide to congratulate Yurio on his stunning performance at one of the entrances to the rink, out of sight of most of the paparazzi and spectators. Lilia watches her little brat pretend he's not affected by the sincere words, hiding a pleased expression beneath his usual scowl of distaste, but it's Yuuri who she watches with a sharp gaze. She's observed him more than a few times during the other competitions, but this is the closest she's been to him in all those times, and she doesn't like what she sees, hates what other people _don't_ see.

He's drawn and tired despite the confidence he'd come to the competition with, and Lilia has the inexplicable urge to say, "You did well. Don't let your left leg lag when you kick off to do the quadruple flip - that had always been Victors' weakness when he first learned it." So she does.

Yurio's kicking up a fuss and Victor is busy being scolded by Yakov so no one hears her words or sees the way Yuuri's eyes widen in shock. "Ah, um- th-thank you."

"Victor has many weaknesses, but they don't have to be yours," she says, glancing significantly at his shoulder where Victor had held him earlier in a seemingly gentle hold.

But she knows better, and by the way Yuuri pales and nearly stumbles away from her, now he does too.

* * *

Twelve hours later, Lilia finds herself in a hotel elevator with the last person she expects.

 _Katsuki Yuuri is not one to be underestimated_ , she reminds herself wryly, but any humor she feels dies a swift death when Yuuri just flashes her a hollow smile and tucks and arm close to his side. She doesn't say anything, not a greeting or an acknowledgement, because it looks like the slightest sound will shatter him and she's not prepared to pick up those pieces when she's still trying to pick up all of hers.

They watch the numbers blinking at the top for a few moments before the silence is broken.

"Lilia-san," he greets amiably, no wariness to be found. "How is Yurio?"

She knows he's not asking to get a leg up on the competition - he's far too spineless for a bold move like that, his other acts of bravery notwithstanding. And she's heard enough from her student to know it is well within Yuuri's character to feel worry for the wellbeing of others, especially ones he considers friends. A childish and admirable sentiment. "Icing his leg. He'll live, for now. We'll have to see if he survives tomorrow however."

That earns her a startled laugh, one that she doesn't think Yuuri means to let loose.

A man steps into the elevator and silence comes back, a little less deafening, but that's because Lilia's thoughts are crowding her mind too much to allow other things in.

She watches Yuuri from the corner of her eye as he shrinks into himself little by little and it's both fascinating and disturbing to watch. Like a hermit crab receding into it's shell, leaving the image of a much larger, intimidating image that hides the weakness lurking underneath. She sees that Yuuri is going to get off soon, a few floors below hers, but something nags at her until she finally gives in and resets all the floor buttons.

"Excuse me, what-" the stranger starts, but a harsh glare from her shuts him up quickly.

The doors open two floors earlier than the man was intending, but Lilia doesn't care. "Out," she barks, and something vindictive in her is pleased at the way he scrambles out of the elevator.

"Uh, Lilia-san?" Yuuri starts, but a stern glare from her shuts him up as well.

He doesn't make a peep as they head to their new destination.

* * *

The stars are truly a sight to behold, like studded jewels in the fabric of the night sky. They remind her of stories her mother used to tell her as a small girl, looking up wonderingly into the air above and dreaming of reaching out and touching one of those incredible, out-of-reach lights.

Now is not a time for reminiscing, however.

"Yakov mentioned you asked about our marriage," she starts, looking out into the bright city skyline.

Yuuri is behind her so she doesn't see him jump in surprise but she's certain that he does anyway. "Ah," he coughs, "I did. I'm sorry, I asked something invasive and I shouldn't have pried-"

"And you asked if love is supposed to hurt," she continues, uncaring of his stuttered, misplaced apologies. She takes his silence as confirmation. "What did he say?"

He falls quiet, so quiet and for so long, Lilia can almost fool herself into thinking perhaps she's alone on the rooftop after all. Then, finally, "It hurts." It's almost a whisper, an admission nearly carried off by the gentle wind, and her hands tremble from more than the slight chill in the air. "He said 'of course love hurts.'"

Lilia closes her eyes, silently curses the old man for being so blind.

"Love can make people blind," she says instead. "Love can make a hideous woman into the most beautiful, can make imperfections into endearments. It can do many things, sometimes good, sometimes bad. But it cannot hurt, because that is the opposite of love." She sighs, draws in a shaky breath. "That is exactly why I divorced Yakov. Because we realized we do not agree on what love is."

A pause.

"I don't understand," Yuuri murmurs behind her, and something in her softens at how small he sounds.

She turns to look at him, still leaning on the railing separating her from a forty-story fall. She's horrified and amused to find the familiar place so comforting when at one time it would have been her end and her salvation, but she supposes the strength it took not to do it is what she draws from now. "Humans are terrible, ignorant things," she says simply. "They believe they know what is best and are completely oblivious to to the truth. They don't see their flaws and believe their mistakes to be the product of others. They believe what others tell them when they know it is wrong."

Yuuri's trembling now, shoulders hunched and looking so small and frail she half-worries he will disappear right in front of her eyes.

"Yakov is not a bad man despite all the mistakes he's made. Much of what he does is learned - the yelling, the demeaning, the heavy-handedness. He's grown up with it, and thus it is normal."

He stares at her, eyes wide in shock. It's an unspoken confession, what she's implying, one that she's never told another soul because women are considered weak and she must be strong...but perhaps the sharing of burdens is considered strength too.

"In Russia, we take family very seriously. Family is more than mothers and fathers and siblings." She thinks of her own family, huge and sprawling, with many aunts and uncles and older cousins she could always turn to when she needed help or guidance. Help she never asked for because in Russia, independence is power. Family is love, but family is not power. "Family is someone you hold dear to you, who holds you just and dearly. So you can imagine, Victor was not only Yakov's student but also like the son he never had."

Such a bright, curious, charming, utterly _bored_ child Victor had been. Constantly asking questions, asking _why_ to a statement and asking _why_ again to the answer. One who befriended interesting people and poked at interesting things and left them just as quickly when something else caught his attention. Ice skating had been a balm to ease that gnawing, aching lust for _more._ Excitement, challenge, _something,_ and somehow he'd found it in jumps and spins and steps. Yakov had been delighted, so happy to find a protege who could take his vision and make it real, and so Lilia had allowed her husband to spend more time at the ice rink than at home, listened to him talk about his astounding student and never ask about her own promising ballet children. She never interfered, and how she wishes she had, because more than one person is paying the price for it.

It seems now he's found another answer in Yuuri.

"My ex-husband is a fool," she says almost fondly, but there will always be a thread of resentment in those words no matter how many years pass. "Men can be pigheaded at the best of times, but Yakov especially, and so he raised Victor the way he was raised. Without Victor's real parents in the picture, he equated discipline and unjust punishments to affection, and Victor did what he does best. He learned." She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes. "And I didn't stop him."

She's changed that though, with Yurio. She accepted her ex-husband's request to take on the young prodigy because she couldn't watch another of his students learn _wrong_ , to take those horrible lessons and pass them on like Victor is doing now however unintentionally _._

Yuuri sways on his feet and Lilia quickly settles him on a step that leads to a higher platform of the roof, ignores the way he shakes beneath her gentle fingers.

Lilia sighs and feels the years press in on her. "Love is not perfect, Yuuri. Love is not always sweet and love cannot fix broken people."

Yuuri doesn't say anything back, but she understands. It's too much, far too much, too soon. She and Yuuri have never really spoken before this night, so why should he listen to the advice of a scary older woman who is training his rival? Why listen to this stern-faced stranger who's only said a handful of words to him before?

"Why are you telling me all this?" Yuuri asks quietly, forehead pressed to his knees.

Lilia settles a hand on his back, warm and anchoring. "I am not your friend. I'm not your teacher or your mother. I'm a stranger doing this for one selfish reason." He finally looks at her now, bangs falling into his red-tinted face, and Lilia can admit what Victor must see in the younger man. He's quite a sight, pure and striking, like a fallen angel, and it just makes the whole situation more gruesome and heart-wrenching. "I don't want to see my past repeated in front of me."

He's not denying it, what his situation is, what she means. He's not pretending what she's implying isn't true, and Lilia can only admire such strength - strength she lacked for years before finally admitting to herself what her life had become.

Yuuri's lips press together in a tight line, to hold in tears or a sob she doesn't know, until he asks, "What do I do?"

She allows herself this one maternal thing and reaches out slowly, tentatively, and is both gratified and sad to see Yuuri apprehensively let her fingers gently brush through his hair and push it out of his handsome face. She can't imagine how his mother would feel, knowing what her child is going through under her own roof, and she suspects that is one of many reasons why Yuuri stays silent. "They say that admiration is the absence of understanding. Do you believe that?"

Yuuri blinks owlishly at her, bright under the rooftop lights, and she can't pretend she can't see the swell of tears clinging to his dark lashes. "I love Victor."

And he does. He really and truly does, the beautiful kind of love that Lilia read in fairy tales and still wishes she sometimes had for the man she'd married, precious and secure and more than some people deserve. But. "Do you love yourself?"

His silence is her answer.

"Normally I would say if you're going through hell, keep going," she says, piecing back together her impenetrable persona, "but in this instance...you do what you can, what you must. Imagine, Yuuri, the looks on your friends faces if they ever knew how much pain you're in. If you don't change something for your sake, change it for theirs."

Yuuri doesn't reply.

A half hour later, Lilia realizes she needs to meet with Yurio before he sleeps. It's surprisingly hard leaving Yuuri alone on the roof after all that, feels wrong on some fundamental level she can't explain, but she has nothing more to say, no more advice to give or life to pass on. This is his fight now, one she can't fight for him no matter how much she is starting to want to.

She doesn't know if her words have reached him and it makes the ache in her chest grow and grow.

* * *

"After the final...let's end this."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** So a lot of people really liked the first chapter? And I kind of forgot to update this since I mainly focus on my AO3 account so...sorry for people who've been waiting for an update for a while lmao. Hope you enjoyed this second part! Very unlikely there'll be a third part so I'm keeping this as "complete" but who knows?


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